Wednesday, March 16, 2011


I dream often now. Sometimes my dreams are comforting and sometimes my dreams are disturbing. Sometimes I wake up smiling and sometimes I wake up crying. Last night I had a dream that I was having a conversation with Jesus. The Sacred Heart of Jesus to be exact. I find this strange but comforting. The strange part is that I can remember exactly what he was wearing. He had the cream colored robe on with the red cloak and the heart smack in the middle of his chest. I don't remember our conversation only that he was telling me that all is not lost and that I will find my ground again. In my dream I was not sure if that was really Jesus or if I sometimes feel that I need him so badly to step in sometimes in my life when things are so terribly awful that I wanted it to be him and because I wanted it to be him, it was. Now that I am awake I am still sitting here wondering if it was him or if I made him all up in my dream and if the words he spoke to me were words that I wanted him to say to me because they were words I needed to hear.

My faith has grown since I had Aven. Some people lose their faith when things fall to crap but I had the complete opposite thing happen. My faith is strong. I talk to God all of the time now. I don't believe God failed me. I don't think he had any control of what happened with Aven. I believe that every single time I cried from the hospital bed to help me, to save my daughter, to take me instead that he cried too because he couldn't stop it all from happening. When I am hurt, he is hurt. When I cry, he cries. I don't think he causes motorcycle accidents that end in tragedy or causes family members to lose a battle with cancer or other ailments. The God I believe in isn't vengeful and doesn't cause pain to teach a lesson. Sometimes bad things just happen and all he can do is sit by and make sure that he is there. I firmly believe that if he wasn't there with me in the hospital the morning I lost Aven and if he wasn't here with me now that I would not be here. I would have lost a battle of my own and life wouldn't have meaning anymore.

He is here. I am proof.

After years of Sunday school classes and years of Catholic private school and very religious grandparents and family members, it took Aven to make me realize that my faith was stronger than I thought it to be and here the whole time even when I didn't recognize it.

Blessed are those who believe without seeing me.
John 20:29

1 comment:

  1. I really admire your faith. I lost most of my own faith when my mom died of cancer, and then losing Valentina pretty much sealed the deal. I feel like I still believe in a creator, in God, but I have no idea what to think beyond that. I like the thought that God has not abandoned me, but has given me strength to make the strides I've made. Food for thought. : ) <3